


High Enough

by goldenhourbuddy



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Blindfolds, Dream is a guard, F/M, Heatwaves, Help, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I just like Princesses, I'm Going to Hell, Kinda, Kings & Queens, Masks, Porn With Plot, Predator/Prey, Princes & Princesses, Reader is Royalty, Reader-Insert, Romance, Rough Sex, Sapdaddy, Sex, Smut, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Voice Kink, gogy, im a dream simp, lots of smut, no y/n, romance is dead let’s have sex, royal au, sappy nappy, step dream what are you doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28870686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenhourbuddy/pseuds/goldenhourbuddy
Summary: The forest and brush sing as you pass, filled with life and insects that chirp for love. Smells of sweet grass entrance you momentarily. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine yourself in a world where everything here was yours, and you were theirs. Maybe a simple peasant, like in all the books that you’ve read countless of times. You gaze at the shrinking sunset and wish for eternal days. The nights are always lonely. You glance beside you.The knights are always lonely.“Dream?”The sound of your voice clearly startles him. Or maybe it was the sound of his name on your tongue. You rarely refer to him by anything other than ‘sir,’ and even that was rare. Because of his tendency to distance himself, you gave up trying to create a connection with him a long time ago. But that doesn’t stop the want you felt in your heart. His shoulders rise simultaneously with the turn of his head, and he lets in a quick breath. Had it really been that long since you said his name?
Relationships: Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)/You
Comments: 14
Kudos: 205





	High Enough

A soft shadow cast over the words on the page, turning the once poetic sentences into subjects of the dark. You squint at the now unreadable story, trying to get one more hint that would let you sleep peacefully without thoughts, but are left sighing at the broken metaphors. The rest would have to wait till tomorrow unfortunately. Tomorrow.

You catch yourself glaring at the retreating sun as it dipped behind the mountains. The comforting warmth you once felt is fleeting, temporary. Now you stand in the middle of a flower field, wishing the day could last a little longer so you wouldn’t have to wake up to tomorrow. You breathe in, letting your fingers brush against the words on the page, and you can almost feel the imprint from ink on paper. Eyes close.

_She loves him._

A simple statement really, but is one that leaves your heart soaring. _Finally._ You had hoped the chapter would end that way.

The sudden crunch of leaves brings your attention away from the book and to the faceless man that stood behind you. When he got there, you’re not completely sure. But his presence pulls you back down into reality; a reality you wished out of desperately.

“Ah, is it time to go already?” You ask, already knowing the answer but praying for another. He stands unmoving, heavy armor beginning to reflect the stars into your eyes. The moon, only just starting to rise, shines just enough light for you to see a gold insignia printed into his green cape. An insignia that owned the both of you. The cape flowed against the breeze, and you frown at it.

The guard, who you’ve known for years, rarely spoke. To you, at least. He seemed to have no problem talking to your father, but you try not to get offended. He motions you over to the stark white horse that stood by a nearby pond, and you sigh, walking to the animal. Your dress drags in the dirt, full of leaves and twigs.

The animal, with a coat as white as first snow, eased under your presence. He wasn’t yours, you knew, but when you were younger you had taken it upon yourself to name it. Spirit, the ghost that seems to loom over you. The blonde spots in his hair looked gold in the dark.

He doesn’t let you mount it on your own, instead grabbing you by your waist to hoist you up. His leather gloves are cold, even with the soft fabric of your garment between his fingers and your skin. Your hands rest on the pads of his shoulders as you stare into the lopsided grin carved into his mask. He must’ve been stepping on your dress, because the sound of tearing rings in the night as he started to lift you. He looks down towards the sound, and your left pressed between him and the horse. The breeze can now be felt on your leg, and you feel your skin flare up with goose bumps. He stares at the tear for some time.

“It’s—it’s fine.” You place a hand on the cheek of the cold wood that covered his face to grab his attention, and you wonder how warm he is beneath it. He looks to you finally. “I’ll just say it got caught on a tree branch.”

A pause, as if he was thinking.

“You’ll get scolded.”

For the first time in a while, he actually gives you words. Soft and gruff, you almost forgot how he sounded. Alive. Young.

“I have plenty of dresses.”

He gives you a curt nod before fixing his footing, placing you onto the saddle. Your dress had a long-shredded slit, you see now, and you catch him staring at it again. He touches the frayed edges.

“It’s fine,” you say again. _Don’t feel bad._ “It wasn’t very pretty anyways.”

He shakes his head and grabs ahold of the leash that hung loose around Spirits nose. The horse begins to walk along the path leading to the kingdom.

The forest and brush sing as you pass, filled with life and insects that chirp for love. Smells of sweet grass entrance you momentarily. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine yourself in a world where everything here was yours, and you were theirs. Maybe a simple peasant, like in all the books that you’ve read countless of times. You gaze at the shrinking sunset and wish for eternal days. The nights are always lonely. You glance beside you.

_The knights are always lonely._

“Dream?”

The sound of your voice clearly startles him. Or maybe it was the sound of his name on your tongue. You rarely refer to him by anything other than ‘sir,’ and even that was rare. Because of his tendency to distance himself, you gave up trying to create a connection with him a long time ago. But that doesn’t stop the want you felt in your heart. His shoulders rise simultaneously with the turn of his head, and he lets in a quick breath. Had it really been that long since you said his name?

“I don’t want to go home.”

He huffs, “you didn’t need to address me by name just for that.”

He pulls a silver pocket watch from his bag. It flips open.

“The King will be worried. It’s already late.”

The forest beckons you in. The beauty in its leaves, the grass, the insects, mocks you with their distance. Dream mocks you with his distance.

“He knows I’m safe with you. Can’t we just go for a moment?”

You’re practically begging. Dream doesn’t look up from the watch for a moment, as if calculating or deciding whether or not to go along with this. Spirit breathes beneath you, calming the tense nerves that tickled your bones.

“What would you even do? It’s too dark for reading,” he gestures to the book between your palms, the one he had gifted you on your 19th birthday. It had been placed discreetly underneath your pillow as you slept, though he didn’t know you had been awake all along. You’d heard him unbuckle a clasp, and a weight was then placed towards the end of the bed. Dreams warm skin still haunts your dreams at the memory of his mask less face pressed up against your cheek as he whispered, “I adore you.”

“I don’t know… I just don’t want the day to end yet.” You look down at your fingers. The silence is loud and constant, like a ringing in your ear that doesn’t pass. You push something past your lips that should have been kept in the depths of your soul.

“I don’t want to wake up to tomorrow.”

He visibly stiffens at that, at the words, at the meaning. Thoughts of how he must look under that mask plague your thoughts. Are his eyes wide and surprised? Or are they dull, unmoving, exactly how you imagine they’d be.

Filter it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Please don’t tell my father…”

Your hands reach to pull at your roots, a tick you picked up when your mind was occupied. It’s slightly comforting, but you can’t shake off the awkwardness you created. You’ve never tried to confide in Dream. A silent giant, they called him. Intimidating and bleak, your fathers spy. He stands oddly now.

“Is this about the wedding tomorrow?” He questions, and you’re throat goes tight. You wish you hadn’t spoken at all.

You ignore the question. “Why don’t you take me into the forest. Where it’s quiet.”

He follows your eye-line. “It’s late, your highness, we shouldn’t.”

“I don’t ask much from you, Dream.” You slide off Spirit before he can attempt to help you down, further ripping your dress. You take ahold of his gloved fingers; such lonely fingers. They make you wonder if anyone has wanted to hold them; if anyone has. You kiss a confession into them, and it tells you everything.

“So please, indulge in me this once.”

* * *

The night was cold and brisk under the broad leaves of the oak forest. You couldn’t see the stars anymore, the ceiling swallowed whole by a blanket of green. Where the vegetation is thinnest, pockets of moonlight seep through the cracks in rays that make your skin sparkle. Fireflies are the only things that provide significant light now, but even then, the area is dark and dream like.

Speaking of dreams, he ties off Spirit to a nearby plant before joining you in the brush. He carries a lantern that glowed yellow, and you frown at the hand placed comfortably on the base of his sword. 

“You don’t have to carry that.”

He ignores you, giving a comforting pat to Spirit before walking closer. He fidgets with his pocket watch, wrapping the chain between his fingers and pulling tight. He pauses at every sound he hears, hand ghosting over his weapon.

“I mean, not now at least.” You spin, and the air is sweet. “It’s safe here.”

“You don’t know that-” 

“I do.” You interrupt, “I can feel it.” You hold your heart, overwhelmed by how right this feels. In the presence of the moon, you sense her judging your worth, and rightfully so. But only for a moment. The trees welcome you, invite you, and for once everything is perfect.

Except the gnawing revelation that Dream is uneasy here. His tense shoulders tell you everything his face can’t, and your happiness is now replaced with guilt that warns you of selfishness. The bugs flicker their light around the two of you as you reach for his hand.

“What troubles you?”

He’s silent, but his hands linger over yours for longer than ever before.

“I’m fearful. We shouldn’t stay long. The nights are not as pleasant as they seem, Your Highness.”

You shy away from him at the title, at the reminder, huffing out a breath of disappointment but confused as to what you were hoping for. Expectations are dangerous, you’ve realized plenty of times in the past. Don’t expect him to say your name if he has never said it before.

The grass beneath you comforts you as you sit and lay against it. “Lay with me.”

There’s hesitance in the way he holds himself, stance stiff and stuck in place. In the dark, you can hardly see him, merely flits and pieces when the fireflies shine closest. They reveal the almost sinister smile etched into his mask, the one that’s been present in your life for years.

It was a dehumanizing type of smile. You’ve heard of the stories of how Dream was before his guarding days, how his faceless presence lingers in everyone’s nightmares, all bloody and worn. He looks like a menace in the moonlight.

His warmth is what eases you away from those superstitions. Leather covered hands reach for yours to steady himself as he sits alongside you. His armor makes loud clinks until he’s fully comfortable, unmoving and calm. Dream takes in an audible breath before you shift onto your side to face him.

“Do you not like the night either?” You ask openly, watching him stare up at the stars. He doesn’t look to you.

“I… don’t think anyone does, truly.”

You hum at that, “well what’s your reason?”

He doesn’t respond, instead continuing to fidget with the silver pocket watch that he hadn’t put back into his pants. On its shell was the engraved initials of someone unknown, and you find him rubbing his fingers over it from time to time. In the heat of war, when you were in the hands of men wearing unfamiliar insignias, you’ve seen him place a long kiss onto its surface before wielding a sword that would cover your dress in thick blood.

“I can tell you mine if you’d like,” you bring your voice to a whisper and he finally turns to you. You smile at the sudden curiosity. Just like him, you hardly told him anything about yourself. He had picked up on your interest and hobbies, and had known the information given to him by your father, but nothing that truly meant anything in the grand scheme of things. 

“But you can’t tell anyone,” you grin through your words and lean closer, “our little secret, okay?”

You’re met again with the silence that felt so familiar it was no longer uncomfortable. The trees rustle against the wind as you reach into your mind. You pull out a memory that sits cold in the palm of your hand, and you struggle to formulate words in a way he’ll understand indefinitely.

“You and I are very different,” you decide to go with, licking your lips in sudden anxiousness. Dream huffs out a sarcastic chuckle before you can finish.

“I don’t want you to laugh.”

“Ok well then what do you want, princess.”

 _What did you want?_ “Don’t call me that, not here.”

He goes quiet, “When I say we are different, I don’t just mean class. I mean something else too.”

You close your eyes in hopes that the words will come easier if you don’t look at him. The fireflies buzz close into your ears now, and any thoughts blink away with them.

“You- have something away from this castle. A life… a home,” you hesitate, “people.”

You remember the bars outside the gates, the ones you would see intoxicated men hobble out of as a child. There’s a small wooden building that housed many of the kingdom’s prostitutes right by the guard station, and you wonder if he has ever indulged in them.

“That’s the difference between you and I. You are not bound to the crown with chains so far deep into the soil that there is no escape. But I am.” You smile sadly and let your fingers touch the grass beneath you in hopes of comfort.

“So, when I’m here, with you, in the daylight, it feels as if I’m my own for once. But that all ends once night falls, and in no time, you’re dragging me back into the chains.”

When met with loud silence, you find yourself unable to handle the embarrassment. You tuck a loose piece of hair behind your ear and sit up to create distance. “Just forget I said anything- “

“No.” He follows you up, taking ahold of your hand in between his own. “No, I get it. I like being here with you too”

You feel like crying suddenly. The end was near and blinding. “Why do you fear the dark?”

“I don’t fear it. I fear of what happens during it. Of what can happen to you in it,” he caresses your face, using his free hand to pull the twigs from your hair. He stops to look at you.

“Additionally, nights tend to be more on the…” a pause, “intimate side. I hate dealing with the fact that I’ve never truly had that.” He turns away, but you can still feel the warmth of his hand burning into your skin.

You find yourself wanting to be bold. You didn’t want to go. You didn’t want him to go. A cloud covers the dim light of the moon as you sit up onto your knees, your dress forming waves from the creases and rips around you. Your heart flutters at the foreign closeness you held with him, knees scuffing against the ground between his legs. The fireflies disappear in an instance, and when the moon is finally in view once again, your arms had moved to wrap around the broad shoulders of someone personal. Someone dear.

Dreams reaction can only be described as predictable as he’s frozen against your touch. You think back to the books of powerful women and concubines you had on the bookshelf he made for you. You try to harness them as you reach for the peak of his hood, pulling it down to reveal a head of brown hair.

“Our nights could be intimate, Dream” you whisper into his loose curls, undeniably formed by the constant hood over his eyes. He smelt of charcoal and iron, like the old caverns your father would tread through with you back when he had the time. He smells like home, true home, and you wish you had more time to cherish the new part of him you’ve discovered on this lonely night. Your fingers thread into his locks, until you find a cold clasp that halts you completely.

While you’re suddenly stuck in place. Dreams body was now in motion, taking your hands from the base of his head by the wrist and holding them in view. His arms shook.

“What are you doing,” he spoke harshly with a voice of venom that paralyzed you like prey. His mask, filling you with unwise temptations, cackled and split into a fire that burned any other thought occupying your mind. The embers of your demise would burn him without a doubt, scorn his skin like kisses beneath the trees. But in the chilly weather of the kingdom, with your wedding day so close you can almost feel the slimy hands of your future husband on the small of your waist, you no longer care how Dream may feel. All you care about is the fact that he’s touching you, hands and all wound tight around your wrist, and that you want him to touch you more.

“What does it look like,” you try to wiggle free from his grasp. It’s only when you lean a little closer that he lets go of you completely.

“You- “he stands, “You can’t just say that. Not to me.”

You follow him up, persistent enough to recognize that his answer carried no rejection. Just hesitance. More hesitance. His body and soul reeked of it; you realize. Who knew that such a feared warrior of the crown would fold so easily at the presence of a woman? A princess.

“Why? Because you’re a man?”

“Yes.” He spat without thinking, on instinct. You frown at that answer.

“And I’m supposed to fear you because of that?”

You had inched into his personal space once again, desperate for anything that could push him over the edge. Delicate fingers reach to touch his shoulders again, draw lazy circles into them with the love and comfort you had for him that has been oozing from your heart for years. You’re so close. But suddenly he’s towering over you with a menacing look you recognize from the pits of your nightmares, backing you into the hard surface of a tree. You gasp at contact and try to escape, but he’s pressing you into the wood before you can think of running.

“You should,” he whispers with a heat that further fanned the flames in your heart, hand beginning to drag past the shreds of your ripped dress and along your skin. “Because under the cover of the forest, no one would hear you screaming.”

You still at his words, at their implications, and your hands grip tightly onto his sleeves. You shut your eyes tight.

“Under the moon, in that little white dress ripped perfectly for me, there would be no where to run,” he breathed, grip tightening on your thigh and you whine. He was trying to scare you; get you to take back your heated words from before with fear. But Dream is too honest for that, too kind.

He covers your eyes with a gloved hand, pushing your head further into the tree and arching your neck towards himself. You hear him unbuckle something. The weight of it is loud once it hits the floor beside you, and you realize what it is once you feel his warm breath on the surface of your skin.

“I could devour you.”

“But will you?”

His breath stops. The flames are now out of control, the smoke blinding you. You can see the end drawing closer. Images of rabbits and wolves fill your cloudy eyes, the ones that filled your old books of fairytales. In the mouth of a predator, would you run?

“My sweet Knight,” you teased, knowing the answer to the question you asked yourself. You reach for him blindly, and his face is hot under your fingers, “Will you let your meal escape? Or will you eat?”

You hear him swallow

There’s a moment when the two of you are silent, swimming in the exchanged words of sudden desire. He presses a chaste kiss into your neck, and you could feel yourself drowning.

“Why don’t you say that for me again?”

You feel his teeth sinking into your skin and hesitate. “Will—”

Dream is pulling you from the tree with a force that almost knocks the wind out of you before you can finish. There’s a brief second when his hand isn’t covering your eyes, and you could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of his face. It was too dark to distinguish anything noticeable. But before you have time to look closer, your face is being pushed into the grass.

His hands crawl over your chest as he pressed himself against your back. You wait for him to paw you through the fabric, but feel his fingers curling around the collar instead. He rips open the dress, and your breast spill out with the seams.

“Dream—” you try to call through his rough touches, knowing there had to have been a better way of undressing that didn’t ruin your dress completely. He ignores you. His breath is hot on your back as he further pulls your sleeves down the length of your arm. He pinches your nipple between his fingers as you break free, and you cry out at the new sensation.

A piece of rough fabric is suddenly being placed over your eyes. The beautiful trees and fireflies disappear as you feel him tighten it behind your skull. He flips you over.

“Your turn to be wearing the mask”

Any confidence that may have lingered in your soul dissipated into smoke at the harsh tone of his voice. You fumbled, blind and scared, reaching aimlessly for anything recognizable in the darkness. Trembling hands finally take hold of the loose curls you had felt before. Your fingers latch on before he can get away, pulling him down closer. They explore the planes of his face, delicate touches smoothing over the miles and miles of skin unseen to anyone. Your thumbs press half circles into under eyes, into long fluttering eyelashes and the hairs of eyebrows. He stills under your silent assault while you sculpt an image of him with clay in the lonely halls of your mind.

Before your touches could go past his nose, he takes hold of your hand to press a kiss into the palm. Soft lips split open for his tongue as they drag down your wrist, licking the wounds that have left invisible stains on your skin. They heal. Dream heals them.

The pleasant warmth of him threatened to lull you into a forever slumber. You try to drift away from the blazing heat of the fire, his touch comforting and simple. But as you stand above a bleak river of simplicity, he presses a harsh bite onto the surface of your shoulder, and now you’re looking back towards the flames, gasoline between your fingers.

Instinctively you pull away, confused by the sudden pain. You whine when he forces you to stay, left to mewl as he continues the rough bites and harsh sucking. A knot forms in the pit of your belly the more he continues. After a few moments, he’ll lap the surface of the wound until it stings to the touch, then move onto another field of skin, untouched with virginity, and repeat.

Your skin burns and pulses as his lips finally leave from an area around your breast. You feel for the bruises he has left and wince when you find one behind the hallow of your ear. Dreams hands find their way to the edge of your dress, gripping the fabric roughly and pulling the skirt down your legs. You shiver when the cold air passes through your bones, but the vulnerability of lying naked below a war hero warms you quickly with embarrassment.

“Dream,” You try to call for him, try to feel for him, but he has disappeared into the darkness. You can hear him shifting ahead of you, following by the weight of armor falling to the ground. You still in realization, processing what’s about to happen too late before he’s prying your legs open.

You’re tense and scared suddenly, and your legs don’t part as easily as he wants. His now gloveless hands tighten around your knees.

“Ease up,” he tries, leaning a bit closer to press another love bite onto your cheek. “Listen to my voice. You can do that for me, right?”

Your arms wrap around his shoulders for support, nodding shakily as your legs open for him. You grit your teeth at the feeling of him hot against your underwear. Thoughts of what awaits you behind the thin piece of fabric break the surface. You were never very good at anatomy, but even if you were, there would be no way of truly knowing. Unless…

“Speak up.” Dream breaks through your thoughts, “Let me hear your voice.”

“I…yes. Yes, I can.” Your teeth tighten, and you settle on throwing your head back into the lush pockets of grass behind you to distract yourself from Dreams curious fingers. They curl around the band of your underwear as he begins to drag them down your legs. You’re finally able to tell how wet you are as you feel something dripping down your leg. You try not to think about how while you can’t see anything, he can see everything. How does he look at you all naked beneath him? What expression does he hold when slipping his dick in between your folds? You gasp.

You call out for him again, voice raw with honesty and desperation. It shocked you how thick he felt around you, how hot he felt; the number of books you’ve read about sex could’ve never prepared you for this; for him. He twitches as he continues to push into you, your teeth gritting at the pain of being stretched so far. Without sight, you can’t tell how long it will take; how far he will go. Your body jolts when he hits a particular spot.

“Ah,” he sucks in a shallow breath. “So that’s all you can take huh?”

His hands move to cradle your waist. On instinct you find yourself arching into him, fragile and cold and needy. Giant palms are warm against your skin, so calloused from the years of fighting, yet so gentle. Gentle. Dream, despite everything, is gentle. 

“That didn’t take very long,” he muses, slipping the rest of himself roughly into you without warning, contradicting any previous thought you had. “You were dripping for me even when I had hardly touched you. Why is that?”

Everything was spinning. In the darkness of your blindfold, you broke apart into fragments at his words. You moan at the pleasure; at the pain.

Suddenly he’s hot against your ear, breath warm and tingly, “Is it because you’re a virgin?”

You seize against him, desperate to get away from the embarrassment. It hurt to move. You were scared. “Stop.”

He only goes faster. He was thrusting into you now. “I’ve never slept with a virgin before. Especially one of such high status.”

You feel your hands inching closer to the fire. A curious ember grazes your hand and splits into a wild fire, burning everything around you. The lake of simplicity could save you from burning. It could save you from this fate. Will you go?

Dream emerges from the fire of your thoughts. He holds out a hand, beckoning you away from the water.

“Tell me princess, are you tight for me because of your virginity? Or is it because of how bad you wanted this?”

Your body, doused in gasoline and tears, yearn for his warmth and inch closer. The water ripples behind you. The forest, with all its life and beauty, cries to the moon for help.

Burn it to the ground.

“Have you ever thought that, maybe I’m this tight because of how much I wanted you?” You whisper through the pain, letting a smile spread across your face. You can’t see him, but for some reason you know he’s smiling too.

He pulls your legs up to rest on his shoulders, continuing to plow into you relentlessly. His grunts spill into your ears and flood your mind with gasoline. He may have started the wild fire, but you gave him the match to light it. The loss of innocence tears the once beautiful scenery apart.

You feel the fabric he had tied behind you loosen, slowly slipping past your eyes.

“Dream!” You call as a warning, the moon just barely starting to be visible. And while all you wish for is to look upon his face, all sweaty and vulnerable, you shut your eyes to block the view. You hear him groan before pulling out of you roughly, leaving you cold and empty. He flips you over again, and you’re left kissing the grass as he pushes back into you without hesitation.

You sob into the dirt. Fingers wrap around the blades of grass for comfort from the building pleasure; the building pain. In this position, so vulgar and filthy, you wonder what your future husband is doing. On your wedding night, would he fuck you like this? With your fingernails all dirt filled from the rough penetration. With your hair all tangled in knots as it was pulled far enough to lift your head from the ground. Maybe. But would it feel as good? Would your future husband be able to fuck you like this without you thinking of Dream?

Dream wraps your hair around his wrist, pulling you so close that you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear. His head dips into your shoulders just as another hand came up to wrap around your neck.

“Look at you. You’re a virgin, yet you arch for me like you’re a slut. Is that what you are, hm? A slut?”

No. But you could be his. You would want that, right?

He pounds into you a little slower while waiting for an answer. He watches you crumble.

“Will you continue to fuck me like one if I say yes?”

Dream laughs maniacally behind you, “God, I knew I liked you.”

He lifts himself up and places both hands around your waist. His pace had suddenly turned jagged. That tight knot that laid dormant in your stomach grew bigger and bigger until it was all you could feel. Being so full, it was all you could think of. Your body begins to shake.

This was getting scary. It usually didn’t feel like this. “Dream! I—I can’t!”

“Yes, you can. It’s okay. Just let it out.” His movement speeds up with his words, and you cry into the moonlight when he snakes a hand underneath you to toy with your clit. It was all too much, yet not enough at the same time. The overwhelming feeling in your core began to feel painful, needing to be released.

“Dream,” you whimper against his hands. “Say my name.”

He continues his seemingly endless assault, but seemed to be struggling with words. The respectful Knight that had taken you on this walk originally peeked out from hiding, hesitant and full of doubts.

“Your Highness—”

“Please,” you’re begging now, heart hurt and torn.

He says it, voice raw with lust, and it seeps into your skin like water with soil. The sound of it on his tongue will haunt you for eternity. The tight knot starts to unravel, and you can feel release.

“Again.”

He moans it into your hair, and he continues to until the both of you are quivering against the stars. When you wake up, it’ll be your wedding day, and this night of shared loneliness will fade into the pits of your mind to fester and grow into dreams and nightmares. By the time the sun breaks the horizon, Dream will be dragging you back into the chains with a heavy heart. But this time, it’ll be forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Let’s see how this goes! First multi chapter fic 😭🤚. Pray for me. 
> 
> Feel free to comment below!!! I love reading what everyone thinks ❤️❤️❤️


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